A Kiss is not a Contract
by Gypsy Love
Summary: Craig kisses Liberty when she's upset about J.T.'s rejection.
1. Chapter 1

After school, in the empty music room, Liberty hugged herself and cried. J.T. had solidly rejected her for the last time. She rocked on the edge of the chair, felt the thick tears on her cheeks. But she didn't want to let him go.

"Uh, oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here," Craig Manning said after he had stepped into the room, his guitar slung over his shoulder. Liberty stared at him, knowing what she must look like. Her cheeks wet, her hair matted, her clothes ill-fitting. Craig was so far out of her realm of possibilities it wasn't even funny. He liked cool girls like Ashley Kerwin, impossibly self-assured and self-aware. He liked sexy girls like Manny Santos. Liberty knew she was neither of those things. So she could think his messy curly hair was cute and that his large dark hazel eyes were alluring but it did no good.

She didn't say anything, just wiped her tear stained face on her sleeve and sniffed.

"What's, uh, what's wrong?" he said, taking a tentative step toward her. She sighed. Pity. That's all it was. That's all it could be with popular upper classmen like him.

"Nothing," she said, hugging herself tighter.

He set his guitar down, came even closer, dragged a chair over to her. Beyond him, in the hallway, she could almost see the stillness in the air. No one was here.

"C'mon," he said, "it's not nothing. What is it?"

She sniffed again, wishing she were Ashley Kerwin for just one second. She'd had that wish before, when Ashley had been doing the morning announcements with an ease that made her envy her. Ashley didn't get tongue tied and flustered in front of a camera, in front of groups of people, in front of boys. She never felt the red blush burning up her cheeks.

"Okay, it's J.T. He doesn't want anything to do with me," She stared at him defiantly. What could he say to that?

"Oh, that's too bad," Craig said, and she started to see what Manny saw in him. She felt like he was listening to her, like he cared. But what did it matter? He was kind of popular, kind of cute, a singer in a band, and she was a geek in overalls.

"Yeah, well, can you blame him?" she said, feeling the sympathy for herself rise up in her throat. All she wanted was someone to like her back, for someone to give her the attention she was able and willing to lavish on someone else. And J.T. She saw so much in him. His comedic skills. His way with fashion design. His quick mind despite his solid C grades. There was so much more to him and she saw it. She wished someone would see that in her.

"Yeah, I mean, I can blame him. He shouldn't be, you know, blowing you off," Craig said, looking down for a second, and then back into her eyes. She sucked in her breath. He was quite good looking. Those large eyes, full lips, pale skin. The vulnerability visible just below the surface.

"Why not?" she said, "I'm nothing. I'm a geek. I'm ugly. I'm nothing," She could feel the tears wanting to start, she could feel them building behind her eyes.

Craig took her hands in his, and she was surprised by that. She looked at him steadily.

"No," he said, "you're not nothing. You're not ugly. You're cute,"

She just looked at him, wanting to believe him. Cute? Her? Liberty Van Zant? The tears spilled because he was lying to her to be nice, to make her feel better, and J.T. was such a jerk.

"Yeah, thanks, but I know you're just saying that to be nice-"

"No," he said, and outside the room in the hallway the light was gold and almost thick, hanging between the lockers like a veil.

"You're smart and you're cute, and don't let J.T. determine how you think about yourself. Don't give anybody that power," he said, and she ducked her head and wiped her tears again.

"Okay?" he said softly, leaning in toward her, and she thought he was going to kiss her. She closed her eyes and felt his lips on hers, softly, brushing against her gently. She reached up and put her arms around him, the gold light from the hall against her closed lids.


	2. Chapter 2

Liberty went home in a daze, the sky a soft baby blue tinged with orange. Craig. Craig Manning? Kissing her? Could that be real?

She'd pinched herself several times and felt the pain of her nails digging into her soft skin. It had certainly felt real. He was better looking than J.T. Of course, that wasn't why she loved J.T. There was just something about him that drew her, and she did love his narrow face and small eyes, his lankiness, the necklaces and rings he would wear. His sense of humor most of all. She could devour that sense of humor. She knew whatever sense of humor she had was crippled, was limping along. She knew she was serious. She knew she was always looking ahead. Craig Manning, though. He was a boy of the moment.

She'd liked his soft lips on hers, liked the smell of his cologne and the detergent on his clothes. Liked that he was older, that he was experienced. She thought of the Jimmy Hendrix song, asking playfully, "Are you experienced?" The answer was a sad and head shaking no.

What would she do with this? What did it mean? Was it a pity kiss? Searching her mind, that seemed to be her only connection to Craig. He pitied her. And there was plenty to pity. Chubby out of style nerdy girl always looking ahead, crying in the empty music room because J.T. had rejected her one too many times. What did she even know about Craig? Not much. He was, had been, dating Manny and Ashley. Manny, for one, was hopelessly in love with him. He seemed to be confident. He seemed to be creative, funny, self-deprecating, nice, he could listen, which surprised her. It was charm. She knew about charm, had rarely experienced it.

Craig. Maybe she could date him. That would show J.T. that other boys thought she was worth something. That would show him that popular and gorgeous boys wanted to kiss her, wanted to cheer her up, didn't want to step all over her delicate feelings until they were pulp.

Tomorrow at school would tell what was what. Maybe he'd come to her locker, lean against it the way boys lean, and look down at her and smile with his sexy lips, half-lidded eyes, a slight blush on his pale cheeks. But maybe he'd ignore her, or look at her quick and then look away, the quick look saying he'd made a mistake. That he had been caught up in a moment. Maybe he'd apologize. And if he did she could already feel her heart sinking, weighed down with the sopping salty ocean water, drowning. But she'd hold her head high and pretend that it didn't matter to her, either. She couldn't let these boys see, either of them, Craig or J.T., just how effected she could be. That had to be her secret. The secret was that she had real feelings that were getting damaged on a daily basis. She wanted everyone to think she was strong, even unfeeling. Nothing could hurt her.


End file.
